


In Hot Water

by PCrabapple



Category: Homestuck, MS Paint Adventures
Genre: Anal Play, Control, Fingering, M/M, Masturbation, Puppet Fetish, Shower Sex, mild breathplay, mild exhibitionism/voyeurism, mild homophobia, possible dubcon, puppet play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-03
Updated: 2013-08-18
Packaged: 2017-12-22 07:33:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/910577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PCrabapple/pseuds/PCrabapple
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John jerks off in the shower at the Striders' house.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is from ages ago. There is more, I just need to edit and finish it. It's basically multiple short chapters just for one scene.

You grip your cock, hissing in a breath as you lean against the cold shower wall, beginning to jerk frantically like always. You need the orgasm, quickly. You don’t want your Dad finding out at home, and you /certainly/ don’t want Dave or his Bro finding out here. You’re probably being paranoid, but you can’t help it. Better safe than sorry anyway. Best to get it over with quickly and carry on. A week with the Striders didn’t seem like that long to go without jerking off, but here you are, handling your bathing suit area like candy’s going to come out of it. You lick your lips and shut your eyes, letting the shower water envelop you as you start to fantasize.

Liv is always a good place to start; the actress, not the bunny! You think of her in Armageddon, of the ample sustenance provided by her madness peaks, or way down South, down under....You bite your lip, thinking of that high waisted white underwear she had on...classic...and imagine Ben Affleck’s calloused fingers dipping in; the large hand and arm attached, up to his fit oil-rigger-turned-astronaut’s chest...

Your mind is starting to wander, like it always does, to other things. Fuck, now you’re thinking about broad shoulders, about strong arms holding you. Liv doesn’t have either of those things, get with the program! You make a small noise in your throat, your brow furrowing as you try to think manly, woman-laying thoughts. Just get it over with, come on....

There’s the sudden sound of the bathroom door shutting, and you actually squeak. Oh god, hasn’t anyone heard of knocking? 

“Chill man, just brushing my teeth.” It’s Dave’s Bro’s voice, and your start to panic even more. Him knowing what you were doing in his shower would be way worse, you’re pretty sure. You nearly slip on the tile, but there’s not much room to fall and you easily catch yourself, one hand still on your dick. You quickly take it away, even though it’s probably impossible to tell what you were doing through the frosted glass. 

You can barely see Bro, he’s just a tall tan blob interrupted by a bar of black at waist level. He must just be in his underwear. The thought sends a jolt to your uncooperative dick, and you quickly turn to face the corner of the shower, not bothering to answer the older man. You’re already flushed from the hot water and your extracurricular activities, but you think you manage to go a few shades redder. 

As you listen hard for sounds of him leaving you vaguely pantomime some shower-type actions, scrubbing under your arms, using one of those sponges on a stick to get your back. Even though all they have here in the way of shower supplies is a bar of soap that looks like it was squashed together from the slivers of a dozen other bars and a bottle of AXE shampoo. You probably look like a complete idiot, but it’s better than being caught dick-handed. Finally, “Happy showerin’” comes Mr. Strider’s deep drawl, and there’s the click of the door shutting again. You breathe an audible sigh of relief and turn so you can lean back against the wall. 

That would have been...disastrous. Despite the shock to the system that had been, you’re still hard. And as you calm down, the pressing need to orgasm comes back, thrumming at your groin and brain insistently. Okay, you can do this, just be quick about it. Think of Liv, her red dress clinging to her skin in the breeze, fluttering open to reveal... this isn’t working. You grunt a little in frustration.

Fuck, who are you even kidding? You think of Dave’s Bro, tall and fit. You fill in the blanks of that blur. Does he have a lot of scars? What would they feel like? No! Don’t get bogged down in the details, you can’t afford to take your time. You pick up the pace even more, stroking almost painfully as you approach your peak. You think about his hands, calloused and huge, covering you, holding, fondling.

Oh god, this is so wrong and gay. You give a tiny moan of frustration as you rapidly approach the edge, hand moving at breakneck speed and eyes shut tight, your whole face is scrunched up in what could easily pass for an anguished expression as you force yourself towards the conclusion. Almost there....

Almost....

And then.....

“You’re doin’ it wrong.”


	2. Chapter 2

You wonder if teenagers can have heart attacks, and if that’s what’s happening to you now as you lose your balance. Your feet slide out from under you on the slick tile below you, and your back slams into the slick tile behind you. The wind gets knocked out of you a bit and in the ensuing daze you think maybe the voice you heard was a figment of your overactive imagination. You find you’re out of luck though as you feel a big hand slide over the back of your neck and push you back up.

“Shit man, you okay? Didn’t mean to scare ya.” You open your eyes and your worst fear/dirtiest fantasy is partially realized. Bro is standing before you in the shower doorway, all 6 foot too many inches of lean muscle and no clothes except for a black pair of boxer briefs. You stare at the fabric clinging to his waist for a few moments too long before you regain enough sense to squirm away from his hand and sputter indignantly.

“Wh-What are you doing! I-” You quickly turn away, squishing yourself into the corner and trying to hide your still raging and by now desperate boner from the older man. This is probably the most embarrassing moment of your life! If only you could slide down the drain with the rest of the dirty water...

“Sounded like you were in distress, so I came to check it out, make sure you weren’t drownin’,” he says behind you, and you’re having a hard time believing him. You were totally silent except for that one tiny noise you made, after he was already gone...Oh no, had he been here the whole time!? Watching as you thought about him? Mortification, thy name is John Egbert.

“Well-uh. I’m not drowning so.....” you say, hoping he’ll get the hint and just leave already so you can die in peace. This is well past the point in teen comedies where the person who just walked in covers their eyes and backs out in embarrassment. What the hell is Bro still doing here?

“You are drowning in bad technique though,” the older man says, sounding as chill as ever, “You always jerk off like that?” Can your face BE any more red? You highly doubt it. How the hell are you supposed to answer that? 

“Uhhhh...I- really don’t think-”

“Don’t be lame Egbert, everyone does it and everyone knows everyone does it so just chill and let’s see if we can’t fix this travesty.”

“What are you /talking/ about?” you whine, wondering when this nightmare will end. Though Bro’s tone and words have have you hopeful that he’s not going to punch you and throw you out of the apartment for masturbating in his shower while thinking very homo thoughts.

That hope is compromised when you feel his hand on you again, forcefully turning you around, and you realize that he’s now /in/ the shower with you. How does he move so silently? You try to recover from your surprise, concealing your crotch with your hands. You can’t look up into his face, nor can you look down, since that’s where those tight boxer briefs are. You settle for looking at his chest, and that’s not much help either. This close it doesn’t matter that you’re not wearing your glasses, you can see every bead of moisture running off those toned muscles, down the between his abdominals, over one of those scars you correctly thought he might have, catching and soaking into the hem of his waistband. Oh dear...

He’s saying something, but you’ve been really damn distracted, and you feel his hand pap you on the cheek lightly.

“I said, ‘Do you always handle the goods like it’s a desperate struggle with a rabid eel?’”

You actually manage to give the question some thought. Well yes, you do, because it sort of is. Except the rabid eel you’re wrestling is your shame at touching yourself like this. It’s filthy so you shouldn’t enjoy it /too/ much, right? You’ll go blind or get hairy palms or inadvertently kill a kitten or something!

“Yes, of course,” you say defiantly, for some reason trying to defend your wanking M.O. You don’t even know why you’re having this conversation and not trying to push him out; this is a serious invasion of privacy, after all! But...you’re so horny after getting close and having to stop /twice/ now, so relieved Bro isn’t punching you in the face, so hopeful that he might actually...want to touch you, asincredible a thought as that is.

And then he does, after shaking his head and chuckling a bit at what is apparently your ignorance. His hand cradles the back of your neck, then slides down your wet and comparatively scrawny chest, down to clasp his huge hand around one of your small wrists. 

“You’re really missin’ out then,” he says, and you allow him to bring your hand away from your groin, up to his face for examination. You can’t breathe as he brushes the backs of your knuckles against his lips.

“And you’re really lettin’ these long- ass, elegant-as-fuck piano fingers go to waste.”


	3. Chapter 3

“Wh-what do you mean?” you ask, your heart pounding, but you’re no longer fearing for your life. Just for your sanity as he slips his tongue over the purported elegant fingers admiringly.

“I mean,” he says patiently, as if you’re a slow student staying after school for algebra tutoring, “You gotta take your time, really explore. You’re what, eighteen now and you’re still choking the chicken like you’re actually tryin’ to kill it?”

“Seventeen,” you correct, as if that really fucking matters right now when he’s moving your hand down against your own body. He hesitates, seeming to have some sort of second thought. You can’t stop yourself from looking somewhat dismayed as he pulls back, and when he notices, he pauses again to look at you critically. You find the words tumbling from your mouth and you can hardly believe yourself. “I’ll be eighteen in four months.”

Bro thinks, then shrugs, then says, “Close enough,” and moves close again. You find yourself simultaneously relieved and nervous about what you’ve gotten yourself into as he lowers your hand again, covering it with his own as he wraps it around your aching erection. You gasp in shock, and yes, in pleasure, as he starts to move, much more slowly than your previous frantic, punishing pace.

“Just slow down,” he practically coos, his other hand caressing your cheek. He’s smirking as you look up at him with half-lidded eyes, and you can’t watch him grin like that at you, almost predatory. So you watch your hands instead. His fingers are calloused like you thought they would be, though the palm is soft, and the whole thing is so much bigger than your own. Even with your whole hand under him, his fingers and thumb are still touching. It guides your movements, slow and teasing, and you let out a choked sound as a moan threatens to cross your lips. 

“Don’t stifle, dude,” he says, threading his fingers into your hair and pulling your head back a little as if to open the lid on you, make your wanton noises pour out. He pairs this with a squeeze to your hand and by extension your dick. 

“B-but, Dave....” you manage to squeak out. he smirks again and shakes his head.

“Dave’s not here man. Went to get milk. Probably gonna stop by the record shop on his way.” Oh. You bite your tongue, still resisting. If Dave went to the record store, then he’ll be there forever, you know from the times he took you and you just tried not to be bored while wishing he would hurry up. He’ll probably stay even longer now that you’re not with him, constantly asking if he’s ready to go.

But...you’ve never dared to not hold your voice in. You’ve been terrified someone would hear you, would walk in and see and think you were a pervert. The same reason you never, ever took your time like this. And holy shit does it feel different. Each stroke is long and drawn out, and you can appreciate the contact more as your fingers slide up your shaft, catch on the underside of the head and then slip over it.

“A-aaaaauuuhh,” you finally let out, unable to help it anymore, the sound echoing off the tile walls. It’s strange to hear yourself make that sort of blatantly dirty sound, and if you’re completely honest, it’s sounds kind of...hot. But if you did it like this every time you’d be caught for sure! Bro doesn’t seem too concerned with the major flaw in the method he’s teaching you though, and just leans down as if to get his ears closer to your mouth.

“That’s it,” he purrs, the fingers in your hair uncurling to pet you instead. You feel feverish, too hot from the water, from the embarrassment, from his body heat all around you. From more damned blushing as he praises you with “See, you’re doin’ great. Isn’t this better?” Yes, it is, a thousand times better. Who would have thought getting caught was the key to discovering how amazing it feels when you aren’t concerned with getting caught?

You really want to kiss him, thank him for showing you this, feel his tongue dominating yours. But you’re not sure that’s proper protocol for this tutoring session or...whatever the heck this is. So you just shut your eyes and groan more for him, listen to his approving growls, feel his hand guiding yours over your cock. He shows you how to rub your thumb over the slit, how to twist with each stroke, roll your palm over the head every time you reach the top. It’s so much to take in, and you wish you had a hand free to take notes, but one is deliciously trapped under Bro’s, and the other is busy digging your nails into the hard flesh of his biceps.

You’re about to come again, and it’s going to be really great, you’re certain about that. You twist your feet in towards each other as that familiar feeling floods you again, though you actually have time to appreciate it now. You mewl pathetically, gripping tighter at the muscles.

And then...

“Ah! Why’d you stop?!” you whine, and you don’t care that it sounds pitiful as he pulls his hand and yours away, leaving you wanting yet again. That’s three times now!

He smirks again and backs you up against the wall, out of the direct stream of the shower and it’s one less distraction from his overpowering presence. “You don’t want it to be over so soon, do ya?” he asks rhetorically. And really, no, you don’t. As frustrating as it is you want to let him do these things to you for as long as possible. Gone is any indignation or shame you experienced from his initial intrusion. You can’t manage to stutter out a response as he intertwines his fingers with your own. “Besides,” he continues, kissing each of your fingertips. The silence stretches as he gives each one equal and gratuitous attention, broken only by the continual sound of water hitting tile and your bodies.

“I haven’t showed you how to really use these bad boys yet.”


	4. Chapter 4

You haven’t a clue what he could mean. How much more could there possibly be to masturbation? You suppose Bro is the expert though, and just sort of stare dumbly at him, mouth slightly open, receptive to whatever he has to give. What he has is a kiss, taking your open mouth for an invitation as he slides his lips over yours finally, slipping his tongue in. 

You’ve been kissed before, but it sure as hell wasn’t anything like this. It’s a real, adult kiss, with tongue and sucking and teeth and lust; serious business! He guides you here, too, pushing his tongue against yours and then pulling back to let you copy the movements. It’s hotter in his mouth than it is in the shower despite the near-scalding temperature of the water, and you quickly lose yourself, your dick aching. When you attempt to touch it with the hand he’s not controlling, he pulls that one away too, pinning both to the shower wall with one of his and you moan your want against his lips.

You’re so devoured with desperation and delirious pleasure that when your feet leave the floor you think you might actually be ascending to the heavens in ecstasy. After a moment though you realize it’s just Bro lifting you up with his free hand. Damn, he is strong, and it makes you feel lightheaded to be picked up by him, your back sliding up the wet tile, your legs instinctively hooking over his hips. 

With your legs open, you can now feel the shape of his crotch pressed against yours and....oh...oh fuck it feels really, really big, and really hard. You’re suddenly struck with a sense of nonspecific terror, and you squirm against him, attempting to push him back, but it’s impossible. He really is quite strong, and right now he seems to be putting all his effort into crushing you into the wall with his body and mouth. You make a sound of protest even as you kiss him back, and just when you’re thinking you might be a goner (to what exactly, you’re not sure), he pulls back, laughing a little.

“Relax Egbert, this is Wanking 101, not Intro to Getting Fucked.” You glare at him, realizing he probably /wanted/ you to be scared for a little bit. He coos again at your frowning face, moving a thumb over your bottom lip and then pulling at the corner of your mouth as if to try and make you smile. 

You feel foolish, but now the erection against your own doesn’t feel so frightening, just...kind of really hot. You push into it, trying to get that friction you need like you’ve never needed anything before. He lets you do it, busy with grabbing one of your hands again. 

He directs its movement like one of his weird puppets you’re glad he didn’t bring with him, running it languidly across your collarbone and then down to your chest, stopping to rub against your own nipple. It’s something you’ve never really paid attention to, just another embarrassing part of your awkward teenage body. But under the older man’s guidance the pink nub is a hot-button wired to your needy groin, stiffening beneath your moving fingers. It feels so strange, and you can’t imagine doing this on your own, it just seems absurd.

And then Bro takes the absurdity even further, moving your hand down over your hip, back between your legs to.......

“Wha!?” you yelp as you realize where the older man is guiding you. Not /there/, surely not! That’s just...inconceivably, unbelievably, and incomprehensibly /dirty!/

His grin is infuriating, indulging in every embarrassment and indignation he sees in you. “Trust me,” he says, his voice silky and undeniable. You’ve gone this far, and you can’t pretend you’re not curious. You go slack, letting him rub your fingers against your asshole, marveling at the sensitivity of it. It’s exciting to touch here, thrilling in the taboo. You begin to move your hips, canting them back and forth as you rock against Bro and your fingers.

Your breath is short, each intake is thick with the steam permeating the air, leaving you barely aware. Bro manipulates your hand, closing all your fingers but one in on themselves into a fist, leaving your index finger outstretched. You know what’s going to happen next, but you can’t fathom it. 

Your other arm finds his shoulder, hooking around the back of his neck as he reaches up with his free hand, feeling along the top edge of the shower stall for something, and you look up, wondering what it could be. He returns with a small bottle of what you think must be lube, and in your haze you wonder if Dave knows that’s up there. 

“Never do it without this,” Bro says, apparently still treating this as some kind of lesson. You nod and wonder if you’ll ever actually put your own finger in your butt by yourself after this. Everything else you might try, especially with how good it all felt, but you can’t imagine that this will be worth it. 

He brings your finger out from between your legs, holding it out of the stream of the showerhead as he squirts a liberal amount onto both your fingers. You chew nervously on your tongue as he lays his finger along the top of yours, the rest of his hand wrapped around your fist, keeping it in what is apparently the correct position. 

The twist of his own wrist can’t be comfortable as he makes sure your own arm isn’t strained when he guides it around the bottom of your thigh and back to between your cheeks, pressing gently at the hole there. “Relax,” he says, and you try to be an obedient student, focusing on the way he’s gently pressing his wet cloth covered cock against your naked one. He directs your finger with his own, carefully pressing at your anus and easing it inside you, both your fingers stretching the hole open to slide inside. 

It burns and you whine. He lets you do it, listening to the sound of your keening voice before he quiets you with another kiss. Your tongue begins a desperate tangle with his as he feel your fingers penetrate deeper and deeper, exploring a place you’d never thought you’d go in a million years. His free hand pulls with slow force against the hair on the back of your head, pulling you away from the kiss. You stare at him, wondering what he wants from you now, but he’s just looking back at you.

“Now check this out,” he says, and presses the finger inside you down, making your own curl under it, putting pressure against the wall of that inner channel. You have a faint realization that he wanted to watch your face as you felt that strange wave of sensation the movement elicits. You give him plenty to look at and to hear as you wail in the surprising pleasure of it.


	5. Chapter 5

You can barely register his pleased grin. All you know is that you want more of that feeling. The circumstances under which you have to get it no longer matter. Even if it’s in kind of a gross place, it’s definitely worth it. Bro begins to pull your finger and his out, pressing down as he does so, stroking along the spot and then pushing in again. It feels so good, and you quickly fall into the rhythm he sets. 

You manage to look up at Bro, and a tiny voice in the back of your brain tells you that he looks kind of silly. His hair has been pummeled into submission by the water, and he’s still wearing his shades and he’s grinning in a sort of dorky manner, too lost in the act of what he’s doing to care about looking cool. And you are too. You don’t really care that he looks ridiculous, he’s showing you an amazing feeling, guiding you through every step and you’re truly thankful. 

You lean forward to initiate another kiss and he withdraws your hands, causing you to moan in protest. But he simply uncurls your middle finger and lays his own along it, now pressing two of your fingers and two of his against you. It seems insane that your ass could accommodate four fingers, but you’re curious as to how it will feel, and you try to relax to let them in. It takes a bit of work, and you feel stretched open as they finally slide in to find that excellent bundle of nerves again. 

“Oh...god!” you cry out, then bury your head in the crook of Bro’s neck, your lips murmuring nonsense against his skin. Your voice echos against the tile wall, and you’re so, so glad Dave’s not home. Except the thought of being heard is kind of even more hot. So you spend a few moments imagining Dave sitting on the futon and wondering what the hell is going on. Definitely not something you actually want to happen, but thinking about it is getting you even closer to orgasm than you were the other two times.

You wonder if you could come just from this, from the friction of you and Bro pumping into your ass. You think you might try it at home when you’re a little less desperate. But right now Bro is mercifully grabbing your other hand and wrapping it around your cock, squeezing and jerking in time with your fingers. 

You think if he stops you again you might cry, but he doesn’t. He smooshes himself more closely against you and your lungs are compressed, making it hard to breathe. Somehow this makes everything just a little more amazing. He doesn’t say anything to you, just growls into your ear like some feral animal, and then you’re having the most intense orgasm of your life. 

Biting on Bro’s shoulder doesn’t do much to stifle the keening yell of pleasure you let loose as it feels like everything inside of you tenses up and is propelled out of the end of your cock. Wave after wave of warm, delicious pleasure washes over you, the water from the shower on your skin making it all the more palpable.

It finally subsides, and you feel exhausted but sated. Your muscles go limp, and you’re left with your legs hanging loosely at Bro’s waist. He takes advantage of your spent state, giving you a long, languid kiss that makes you feel completely lost in the best way possible. He presses against you with his still-stiff crotch before withdrawing both your hands and gently lowering you to stand on the floor. 

“Don’t let me see you jerking off all quick and violent-like again,” he scolds, holding onto your shoulders to make sure you can actually keep upright, which you’re thankful for. You nod, still in a daze, and he ruffles your wet hair before stepping out of the shower and grabbing a towel. You watch him dry himself off, idly rubbing at his still-clothed cock, and you suddenly wish you could see it. But before you can say anything he’s gone, the towel left in a crumpled heap on the floor.

You stand there for a long time, just breathing and trying to pull your thoughts together. Eventually the water starts to get cold and you have to turn it off. You think over everything that just happened, trying to string it together coherently. All you can really conclude is you’re definitely going to try all the techniques Bro taught you. You dry yourself with Bro’s towel and dress lazily, feeling more relaxed than you have in a long time.

You step into the hallway, realizing you didn’t even thank Bro, and wondering if you should pay him back somehow. That relaxed feeling quickly dissipates when you enter the main room and find Dave sitting on the futon, slurping up the dregs of a bowl of cereal.

“Uh...hey Dave,” you say, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks yet again.

“Hey,” Dave says, and you’re not sure, but you think he might look a little flushed too.

“Did you just get back?” you ask hopefully.

“Nope...been back awhile,” he replies, and that’s definitely some red creeping into the tips of his ears, “Are you always that loud, dude?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Glad I finally got this done after it was sitting on my Google Drive for like, two years. Hope you enjoyed, and constructive criticism is always appreciated!


End file.
